Only One Shot
by Tevlodi Obight
Summary: An Imperial Private joins an infiltration team on Sullust, and reflects on some of the things he witnesses. Will he be successful in carrying out his mission?


All units, prepare for deployment," an officer's voice announced on the Tie Reaper's intercom. "We will be landing in 10 minutes." Surat Janson knew there was only so much time before he'd be on the battlefield, taking down Rebel scum.

This was definitely a change of scenery as opposed to simply being a guard watching over the data vaults on Scarif. Of course, Scarif was one of the most important military worlds in the Empire, but actually keeping it safe was more the Navy's job. Being posted there was more or less the Stormtrooper Corps' way of putting you on paid R&R. On Scarif, the beaches, sunshine, and the iron canopy of the Imperial Navy were a lot closer than the Rebellion ever was.

Now here he was, on a real live battlefield. This was definitely not going to be anything like the simulations he trained with back in the Imperial Military Academy on Carida. There were plenty of chances to complete the objective. You could try and try again. But on the battlefield there was only one shot of completing the objective. Once you were hit, you were out.

Janson had risen through the ranks swiftly, making it to the top of his classes and making it to infantry in half the time other cadets did normally. But staying cooped up in a library studying battle tactics and flanking maneuvers was a whole other story. This was the real thing. He'd heard other cadets exchange stories about what war does to a man. They said that people have gone insane, that they never recover and are sent to the insane asylum on Kessel. Janson knew what he was in for and what he had to do, but those thoughts made him shudder.

"Look alive, Private! We're here!" shouted an officer over the roar of the engines. Janson was shaken violently from his thoughts and replied, "yes, captain!" The captain, named Zephaniah Bichette, was renowned among his battalion for his fair and well-mannered demeanor, but also known for turning vehement and relentless on a dime. Now he was all in, taking no nonsense whatsoever. He seemed very agitated today, more so than ever.

Now fully awake, Janson resolved to do a last minute inspection on his E-11. Perfection. He was known among his squad as "Squeaky Clean Janson." Not overly creative, but apt nonetheless. He had to admit, he was more meticulous in cleanliness than most others he had ever served with.

As he stood up, Janson and the troopers from Arakyd Squad fanned out to secure the landing. Several other Reapers had also landed, offloading other squads, who did the same. They appeared to Janson to be at roughly company strength. Bichette signalled for the men to fall in and receive their briefing.

"Alright. Listen up, gentlemen," Captain Bichette announced as he donned a gray trench coat. "Here's the rundown. A Rebel force has set up a command center inside an abandoned warehouse facility here on Sullust.

"Our man on the inside reports that the Rebels' aim is to hijack shipments of weapons and vehicles and return them to Rebel bases in the Rim; all part of Operation: Ringbreaker. Because of the rather obvious threat posed by this Rebel presence, this filthy den cannot be allowed to flourish. Sector Command has therefore designated this op priority ALPHA."

"Unfortunately, due to the haste with which this mission was planned, Moff Drury was unable to procure what I would consider adequate troops." Condescension dripped from Bichette's voice. He was not happy with how this operation had been arranged, and he was more than willing to let the troopers know it.

Captain Bichette proceeded. "On the bright side, this is far from the greenest op I have commanded thanks to a few special guests. Lt. Sale of Krayt Squad pulled his men off shore leave to volunteer, Shadow Company will be lending their best snipers to aid in the mission, and we are lucky enough to have a few of the Empire's finest here with us as well, courtesy of Grand Moff Randd himself."

Death Troopers. An exceedingly rare sight on field ops, Janson mused.

"Our source reports that the Rebel fleet has departed to capture their first arms delivery on the far side of the planet, giving us a temporary window to get this operation completed. Moff Drury is not willing to sacrifice any material for this, and has replaced the shipment with an empty freighter. While this helps the Empire's bottom line, this means that the Rebels will not spend any time securing the freighter and its cargo. This means we are on the clock today, gentlemen. We get in, we complete our mission, and capture the base before the Rebel fleet returns. Understood?"

A mixture of nods and whispers indicated the troops were clear on the matter.

"Now, for those of you unfamiliar, meet your commanding officers for this op."

Two Stormtroopers stepped forward and joined Bichette. Their orange pauldrons belied their officer status among the men. A Shoretrooper joined them as well.

One of the stormtroopers spoke up: "Commander Barndo Grichuk, Omega Squad, sir!"

"Commander Rathwane Pannon, Viper Squad." Said the other.

The shoretrooper was last to identify himself: "Lieutenant Caphor Sale, Krayt Squad."

Bichette continued once the three squad leaders had finished. "Each of these men will be joining us along with their own squads. That's 90 men, for those of you keeping count. These are your orders: Omega, Viper, and Krayt Squads are tasked with launching a frontal assault, tying down the Rebel forces and drawing their attention. Your squad leaders have been granted broad discretion in this. After all, you men are the veterans."

A stormtrooper from Krayt Squad named Bautista nudged the trooper next to him and whispered, "this oughta be fun."

Bichette Continued. "Echo and Arakyd Squads are designated as infiltration units under my direct command. Once we are inside, our objective is to locate and assassinate the Rebel commander and capture the command post. At that point, we are to move through the complex to the entrance to relieve the forces outside. With their leaders dead, the Rebels will be an easy target and resistance will crumble. Ultimately, we are to leave none alive. The point here, gentlemen, is to send a clear message: A Rebel presence on Sullust will never be accepted. Are there any questions?"

As a member of Arakyd Squad, Janson found himself rather unexpectedly on infiltration detail. Arakyd Squad was not an experienced unit, and in his estimation it was likely they were the least qualified. He couldn't help but imagine his squadmates turning the same shade as their armor when the orders came down.

Under his breath, he chuckled a bit. Fatalism? Possibly. But every stormtrooper knew that he was, in the end, a disposable asset. The Corps was the greatest fighting force the galaxy had ever seen, but it was still an awfully dangerous galaxy. Nonetheless, they had their orders.

No answer came from the troops. "Very well, then. Now, we do this for the Empire!" Captain Bichette yelled. A loud murmur of zeal arose from the men as they echoed the war cry in response, "FOR THE EMPIRE!" The troopers fell out of formation and proceeded to their assigned groups.

Sullust was a barren, obsidian world of gray rocks veined by channels of magma located in the Outer Rim. Janson didn't exactly understand why the Empire would choose such a treacherous system to set up shop; the atmosphere was toxic to breathe, the terrain unpredictable with spouts of lava and smoke, and the Sullustan locals inhospitable to the Empire.

The Rebel command post stood out from the terrain. Amidst the boulders and crags stood the prize: a large warehouse used during the days of the Clone Wars. It had since been abandoned after the Republic dissolved, but the Rebels discovered it and used it as a base of operations. This command center served as the frontrunner for Operation: Ringbreaker, a plan devised to bring down the heart of the Empire's ship production operations, Kuat Drive Yards, by attacking various Imperial shipyards. The Rebels most recently attacked the Kuliquo belt, an Imperial mining asteroid field, along with 6 other previous assaults on various Imperial systems.

5 minutes after disembarking, Janson found himself in a group of other stormtroopers with the captain. They all stood on a hill near the East side of the complex, preparing the grappling hooks on their blasters. He watched as Omega, Krayt, and Viper Squads prepared to launch their assault on the command center's entrance. He watched as a small white figure tossed a thermal imploder at the entrance. The imploder drew the attention of a Rebel squad on patrol, who moved swiftly to pre-designated defensive positions.

The Rebel defenders had chosen their location well. The Imperial invaders on approach were exposed and easily visible against the dark gray terrain. The Rebels held every advantage at the entrance so long as the status quo held. Too many stormtroopers were going down, and very few Rebels were joining them. To make matters worse, reinforcements were exiting the base already, ahead of schedule. Unless the infiltration team was able to turn the tide, it was going to be a bloody fight at the front gates.

Captain Bichette watched all this unfold through his electrobinoculars.

"Phase One has been initiated. The Rebels are dug in deep, so I suspect our diversion team will find it difficult to make any headway." Captain Bichette said. He almost sounded impressed with the Rebels' coordination, which was high praise from an esteemed Imperial officer. Though he didn't have a perfect vantage point, Janson had also been watching, and he marvelled at the captain's measured underestimation of the carnage happening below.

Ahead of Janson's platoon, a Death Trooper was also watching on electrobinoculars. Bichette moved over to him and motioned silently to a Twi'lek Rebel soldier standing watch on the balcony. With the battle raging below, no one inside noticed as a single blaster bolt struck the Rebel, sending her tumbling down to the shale below. The way was clear.

"Excellent," said Bichette. "Initiate Phase 2." Everyone made a mad dash for the building, and fired the grappling hooks into the ceiling above the balcony. After climbing up the ascension cables, the troops set their weapons to kill and slowly advanced into the complex. Everyone kept silent as the sounds of blasterfire and the piercing screams of dying men raged on outside.

Many of the newer troopers had known to expect blood. After all, some of the simulations included a gratuitous amount of fake blood and recorded screams. But the suffering was much harder to listen to now that it was real.

The footsteps of the infiltration team echoed in the halls; the tension so thick, one could cut it with a knife.

"Echo Squad, head towards the main security complex," Bichette said at last. "We can't afford to have too many Rebs on our backs." With a resounding "yes sir," Echo squad took the west hallway and followed it past a corner until Janson lost sight of them.

"The rest of you… let's keep it moving. We'll be shorthanded, but I'm sure you're up to the challenge." They continued down the ill-lit corridor.

As they moved, the team of 15 came to a makeshift guard post set up across the hallway. The Rebels had been fortifying inside as well as out, but with no ships overhead, they hadn't expected an insertion from the roof. Their backs were to the Imperials, and the sound of the battle outside provided perfect cover for their footsteps.

The single Death Trooper in the squad held up his arm, signaling for the team to hold position. Bichette turned to him, paused, then nodded in approval. This was Bichette's mission, but then again, you never say no to a Death Trooper, Janson thought.

The elite trooper stealthily crept up behind one of the Rebels, a human male. Slinging his rifle over his back as he approached, the Death Trooper produced from his belt a wicked vibroblade, twirling it adeptly as he drew the weapon to shoulder level. Janson watched intently, holding his breath and waiting for the Death Trooper to make the kill while noting the latter did not ignite the weapon.

Then, in a flash of black armor, the Death Trooper slashed the throat of the first guard savagely. The poor man gurgled and spluttered blood from his throat and mouth. As he collapsed, the sentry splattered blood onto the Death Trooper's helmet, giving him a truly terrifying visage. The second sentry, a male Rodian, witnessed this silent kill and attempted to shoot the elite trooper with a small pistol. With a single motion, the Death Trooper sliced his wrist open, causing the Rodian to drop the pistol and shout in pain, and making the latter quickly realize he was definitely out of his league. The Death Trooper covered the mouth of the Rodian, and with a flip of the wrist, brought the vibroblade into a backwards grip and brutally sliced the sentry in the back many times, this time with the blade ignited. The cuts were ragged and uneven and the blade was red hot, increasing the amount of pain experienced by the unfortunate Rodian.

Sheathing his blade with an artistic flourish, the Death Trooper motioned for the team to move forward and join him. The Rodian slumped to the floor, torn to shreds in mere seconds. A collective shudder went through Arakyd Squad as they passed.

Janson watched with amazement and horror at how quickly the sentries were felled. He had heard stories of the Death Troopers' killing prowess, but the stories paled in comparison to witnessing it firsthand. As the team proceeded down the corridor, he looked back at the two corpses in pity. No one deserved to die like that, not without a fair fight. Janson wondered if there was such a thing against a Death Trooper in close quarters. Maybe if you're a Jedi, he concluded to himself.

"No looking back, Private," Bichette whispered sharply. "They are traitors serving a traitorous cause. They deserve their fate if they dare oppose the Empire." This definitely sent a shudder through Arakyd Squad. Their lack of battle experience notwithstanding, the troops still understood that opposing the Empire was a mistake any traitor would learn to regret.

Cutting across the production floor and moving up a metal stairway, the team made for a ramshackle command center in one of the offices overlooking the warehouse floor. It was occupied by dusty Kyrotech battle computer consoles, and even dustier techs behind them. There, in the center of the room, stood the targets: Rebel officers. Janson counted eight of them, a sizeable command contingent. In the center of the command center stood a Harch Jedi, looming over an officer's shoulder and looking at a computer screen. Janson had heard of the arachnoid Harch before, though he had never seen one in person. He remembered hearing somewhere the Harch could live for centuries, which he supposed could explain why this one wasn't old and grey, like most Jedi nowadays.

Did spiders get old and grey? Janson wondered, somewhat amused.

Before any answer could come, the Imperials raised their blasters and fired a fusillade of laser bolts. The Rebels, caught off guard, dove behind whatever cover they could find and returned fire. The Imperials followed suit. The Jedi raised his arms and summoned to his hands a green and a blue lightsaber and quickly deflected the shots with ease.

Chaos quickly descended. Blaster bolts jumped from the blades and into the walls and the various machinery around them, creating magnificent sparks of energy and blackening the walls. The lights flickered overhead, making it difficult to see what in the galaxy anyone was shooting at. The only consistent glow came from the Harch Jedi's lightsabers, creating magnificent arcs of green and blue light as he deflected bolts right and left. From his cover, Janson marvelled at the Jedi's dexterity in the art of the lightsaber. Quick and simple deflections; stalwartly defending his comrades from the barrage.

Janson heard a scream to his right. By pure reaction, he turned to see a stormtrooper next to him collapse, with a burn mark on the stormtrooper's white helmet. By pure happenstance, Janson, through the ensuing chaos, spied the Death Trooper stealthily creeping around the perimeter of the command center, narrowly avoiding blaster bolts as he went along, unnoticed by the Rebels or the Jedi. Janson reasoned the Death Trooper's black armor served very well in the dimly lit environment. He stopped behind a crate positioned a few meters from the Jedi and leveled his rifle at the back of the unsuspecting Jedi's head.

It was now or never. Janson squeezed the trigger and fired. A scream ensued. A garbled scream. The Death Trooper collapsed in a heap behind the Harch Jedi, causing a brief moment of distraction for the Jedi. Captain Bichette, mad with a venomous fury, capitalized on this moment of distraction to aim his pistol at the Jedi. Janson saw this too and fired at Bichette, hitting him in the forearm. Bichette's shot went wild, missing the Jedi by a few inches. Howling with rage and pain, Bichette yelled, "Traitor! You've chosen a fine day for suicide!"

Touching the screen on his wristband, Bichette altered Janson's IFF, marking him as an enemy to his troopers. The die was cast. There was no turning back.

The Harch Jedi witnessed all that occurred and resolved to take action. Summoning the power of the force, he forced the crates and old consoles into the Imperials, knocking them back and pinning them down, creating another firework display of sparks. Janson, somewhat stunned by this concatenation of events, swiftly recovered and jumped out of the path of the flying debris. Captain Bichette was pinned down on his leg by what looked to be a tactical readout board, sparks flying from it as it immobilized the Imperial officer. The other troopers, while trying to fend off the Rebels, lifted the mess of debris to free Bichette and used it as a bunker.

Janson took shots at the Imperials, trying desperately to avoid the barrage of blasterfire from both sides. The Harch Jedi slowly maneuvered his way to Janson, deflecting blaster shots as he went along.

"That was some shooting there, stormtrooper," the Harch Jedi shouted to him over the ruckus. "At least you can aim."

"Thank you, sir!" Janson shouted back.

"What's your name, soldier?"

"Sergeant Surat Janson... of Twilight Company, sir!"

"Twilight Company, eh?" the Jedi said thoughtfully, clicking his mouth as Harches often do when speaking. "It would seem you're with us then!"

Janson scored another hit as yet another stormtrooper collapsed in a heap with a black burn mark staining his white chest armor. The Imperials were losing ground quickly. Captain Bichette, still fuming with fury, finally acquiesced and gave the order to fall back. Defeated, the stormtroopers fell back, some providing cover fire for the retreating team.

The Harch Jedi, the remaining Rebel officers, and Sergeant Janson followed in hot pursuit, following the broken team down the long corridors and onto the balcony, taking potshots when able. Janson watched as the Imperials dropped from the balcony and onto the ground, holding onto their ascension cables as they went down. The Rebels fired shots at the retreating stormtroopers, taking down one or two.

Up in the sky, Janson observed Tie Reapers flying away. He surmised that the assault on the front of the command center hadn't gone too well.

Janson removed his helmet and wiped the sweat from his brow. He couldn't help but feel proud. He'd met a Jedi and had an opportunity to save a Jedi all in the same day.

Jedi aren't immune to blaster bolts. They're still mortal after all, Janson mused.

"It looks like we'll live to fight another day," Janson said.

"Indeed it does. Indeed it does," the Harch Jedi said, shutting off his lightsabers. "I must thank you for saving my life back there, Sergeant. I am greatly in your debt. Because of your courage and bravery, the Rebellion will live on."

"It was nothing, sir," Janson said, somewhat blushing at the prospect of being a major factor in the Rebellion's survival.

"You know what? I don't believe I've properly introduced myself, Sergeant. Master Dridu Kan'Ryoth, at your service," the Jedi said, extending one of his six arms. Janson shook his hand firmly and watched the Tie Reapers disappear into the clouds.

One shot was all he had. Only one shot at succeeding his mission. Only one shot to save a life. Only one shot was all he needed. Only one shot revealed who he was: a sleeper agent for the Rebellion, tasked with sabotaging the Empire's assassination attempt.

All in a day's work, Janson thought.


End file.
